Sunday
I drove to work today after a three-day break. I'm serving my notice period so I'm using up my casual leave. The roads were nice and empty and I had to drop my mother-in-law off at prabhadevi. We were listening to a sitar tape and I was enjoying my drive when I hit shivaji park. The divider had thermocol cut-outs of lotuses and Narendra Modi's big smiling face on them. My good spirits plummeted and were instead replaced by a dull knot in the pit of my stomach, a sick nervousness...this man gave orders to the police prohibiting them from intervening in the Gujarat riots. A citizens tribunal has published a report that proves the state's complicity in the riots. And he is now now being felicitated. Traffic snarls end-toend in his honour. I felt a profound sense of hopelessness. I want to leave this place. In the grounds where he is addressing the misinformed masses, there is a giant, pink plaster of paris facade of the Akshardham temple. The message is clear...the Godhra fire, the attack on Akshardham..Hindus under siege and there should be reprisal. I wonder about the costs of all the publicity paraphernalia -- it probably runs into a couple of lakhs. Enough money to clothe, feed and educate at least some of the miserably, emaciated children who line bombay's streets.
Sunday, January 12, 2003
